


Familiar Waltzes

by Thistlerose



Category: DCU (Animated), Justice League & Justice League Unlimited (Cartoons)
Genre: Episode Related, Episode: s03e06 Dead Reckoning, F/M, Unresolved Romantic Tension
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-11-03
Updated: 2014-11-03
Packaged: 2018-02-23 23:47:48
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 698
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2560238
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Thistlerose/pseuds/Thistlerose
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"But someone here has to be practical."</p>
<p>"Says the man in the giant bat costume," she drawled.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Familiar Waltzes

**Author's Note:**

> It bothered and surprised me that they never addressed what happened at the end of "Dead Reckoning" - and that they completely dropped the Diana/Bruce ship partway through the series. So I wrote this. Maybe, at some point, she will finally get the truth out of him.

Diana ran into Bruce in the commissary. 

He glanced at her, taking in her raised eyebrows and slightly open mouth, then glanced away. "You seem surprised to see me," he commented dryly as he poured his coffee.

"I didn't expect you to be here, that's all," she said.

"I work here."

"I know. It's just…"

"What?"

Diana crossed her arms and regarded him. "I thought maybe you'd take some time off."

"To do what?"

"Brood."

It was hard to tell with the mask, but she thought one of his eyebrows might have twitched. "Who says I'm not brooding now?" he asked. "I can multitask." Coffee mug in hand, he started to walk away.

" _Bruce._ " She kept her voice low-pitched, though nobody in the commissary seemed to be paying them any attention. Reaching out, she touched his arm lightly. He stopped and looked at her again, his expressionless gaze traveling from her face to her hand, and back up again. Firmly, she said, "It's not your fault."

"I know."

"It was the ghost--"

"I know."

"Oh." She let her hand fall to her side.

Sounding half-curious, he said, "Diana, what did you expect me to do?"

"I don't know," she said truthfully. "I know how you feel about killing, even when there doesn't seem to be any other way. I guess, after Gorilla City, I had this mental picture of you … standing alone on a rooftop in the rain … brooding."

"At night?"

"Of course."

"Alfred hates when I do that."

Was he making a joke? She wasn't sure. His tone and what little she could see of his face did not change, even as he went on: "Diana, if it wasn't my fault someone was shot, then I can claim no responsibility for saving you. I would have let you die."

A chill washed over her, but she stuck out her chin, put her hands on her hips, and said, "I don't believe that. Not for a second." And the strange thing was, she didn't. Not because she thought he might still have feelings for her - even if he did, he'd made his choice, and she knew she'd never convince him to change his mind - but because she simply could not imagine a scenario in which she, or Bruce, or Clark could fail to save one another.

"Diana…" His voice was low, almost a growl.

She stood where she was, not barring his way, just holding him with her gaze.

After a moment, his shoulders sagged - only about a fraction of an inch, but she saw it. And he said, "I would like to believe that too."

"But?"

"But someone here has to be practical."

"Says the man in the giant bat costume," she drawled.

"To the woman in the star-spangled bathingsuit." 

"It's armor."

"I know."

They looked at each other not exactly contentiously for a few moments more. Then Diana said, "If I go to get a cup of coffee, will you disappear while my back is turned?"

"Maybe."

"Really?"

"Do we have to talk about Gorilla City?"

"No," said Diana. "We can brood together in silence. Brooding can be a group activity."

"No, it can't," he said. But then the corners of his lips quirked. ( _Finally,_ thought Diana.) And he said, "I'll wait."

_That_ she believed. But as she turned and walked toward the coffee maker, she was tempted to glance back over her shoulder, to see if he was still there or if he'd seized the opportunity and skulked away. But Diana knew her myths, and so she didn't look back until she had her coffee well in hand, with the requisite cream and dollop of sugar. Then she turned and raised her eyes slowly, and there he was in the doorway, impassive as always, but _there_ , waiting for her. He raised his cup of coffee, as if in salute - or maybe to say, _This is getting cold. Hurry it up, Princess._

Hard to tell, with him.

Since he wasn't about to tell her, and she wasn't about to use her lasso on him - though she'd fantasized about it many times - she supposed the choice was hers. She could believe what she wanted.

11/1/14


End file.
